I admit, I am in love with you
by niare
Summary: A story that fills in the gaps in season 4, resolving Sam's departure and creating a (sort of) new coupling. Spoilers: Everything to "Angel Maintenance."


I ADMIT, I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU  
A STORY THAT FILLS IN THE GAPS IN SEASON FOUR, RESOLVING SAM'S DEPARTURE, AND CREATING A (SORT OF) NEW COUPLING. SPOILERS: EVERYTHING TO "ANGEL MAINTENANCE." THIS OVERLAPS THE END OF "CALIFORNIA 47TH" AND THEN "RED HAVEN'S ON FIRE" AND SUCCEEDING EPISODES.  
*****  
CALIFORNIA, 47th CONGRESIONAL DISTRICT  
"That was fun." Sam said mildly as he, Toby, and Charlie reached the hotel. Toby snorted, and Charlie suppressed a grin. It was hard not to; it had been strange to see the complete role-reversal, with Sam fending off the reporters while Toby walked quietly behind like a chastised and penitent schoolboy.  
"I'm going upstairs. What time do we start?" Toby got out of the car and started up the steps of the hotel.  
"Eight a.m. sharp. That goes for you, too, Charlie. Mrs. Bartlet arrives by nine for a breakfast, and I need you to have her schedule ready."  
Charlie nodded and headed off to his room, while Sam made some reassuring comment to Toby before departing for the conference room that was serving as his campaign headquarters. Snorting again, Toby stalked to the elevator. As the door opened on the 11th floor, Toby found himself face-to-face with Andrea.  
"Hey..." he said, brief as always.  
"Hi," she replied. "I was just going to see what had happened with you."  
"Well, we got arrested."  
"Yes, Toby, I was aware of that. So?"  
"So..." Toby shifted uncomfortably. "So they hauled us down to the station, fingerprinted us, took away my god-damned indestructible government-issued cell phone, and locked us up until Sam posted bail. I can't leave the state anyway, so the President told me to stay here and help Sam. Apparently he fired Sam's campaign manager."  
Andi chuckled. "He did, right before he went onstage and unveiled his economic plan. It was good."  
"So I heard," Toby responded dryly. "The cops wouldn't let me watch."  
Andi chuckled again. "No, I don't suppose they did. C'mon," she continued, taking his arm. "Let's go have coffee."  
Toby acquiesced, allowing Andrea to lead him down the corridor a few paces towards Andi's suite before stopping cold.  
"Coffee!" he sputtered, "Coffee?! Woman, are you crazy? It has caffeine in it!"  
"Relax, Toby, I'll have a caffeine-free soda. I'm using the word 'coffee' in the non-alcoholic-beverage-of-you-choice sense, so we can talk. Although you might be better after a drink," she finished skeptically, raising an eyebrow and looking at him thoughtfully.  
"Yeah," Toby paused before continuing, "Should I really be seen coming into your suite after what just happened?"  
"Oh, hell, Toby, I don't care! The whole world knows about us anyway." Andi burst out, fiercely swiping her key card through the lock and pushing the door open.  
"Us?" Toby asked, in his quietest, most reserved political voice. He betrayed no emotion, merely holding the door for Andrea, dropping his jacket on a chair, and going to inspect the mini bar.  
"Well, I've made it perfectly clear that they are our children," Andi shouted defensively through the door. Returning, Toby said nothing as he passed her a soda and sat down with his a Jack Daniels.  
"What, you don't believe me?" she asked, her voice rising almost imperceptibly.  
"Well," Toby began, still in his political, betrayest-thou-not-thine-emotions voice, "It has been at least three years since we..." He sat down, turning the glass in his hands, waiting for her response.  
"So?" This accusingly, daring Toby to say what they both knew wasn't true.  
'Well, I'm Jewish. I don't believe in immaculate conception."  
"Jesus Christ, Toby, you're impossible, you know that?" cried Andi as she paced back and forth across the room.  
"All I'm saying, Andi, is that you've never exactly state explicitly how you know that you're carrying my children." He continued swirling the Jack Daniels in its tumbler, then drained it in one gulp. He watched her pace across the room another time, then said, "Sit down, okay? Your feet must be killing you."  
Andi looked surprised, but acquiesced. Since when had Toby known that pregnant women often had podiatric problems? And what exactly was he suggesting, that she was lying when she said they were his children? Reluctantly, she realized that she owed him an explanation, so she took a deep breath and began.  
"Eight months ago, the clinic called me. They said that they had found one viable sample that had been misplaced, and it had our name on it. They called me and told me what they'd found, but cautioned that it was only viable for a few more weeks at most...so I went. I didn't think it would work, Toby, but we wanted this so badly I couldn't pass up one last chance."  
Toby swallowed hard and put his empty tumbler on the table. Leaning back in his seat, he faced her and stated, flatly, "We? Andi, you've made it very clear on several occasions that there is no 'we' anymore. At least, not like that."  
_What was she doing? Was she trying to torture him?_ Toby had never really recovered from losing Andrea, he had just (as he had done countless times before), shut his feelings away deep inside him. He had put the armor back around his heart, built up the walls again, and carried on. It's what made him such a valuable 'professional political operative': he never let his personal life intrude and affect his job.  
That was why their marriage failed. Toby was so wrapped up in his new job as Director of Communications for the President that he didn't save his marriage. Now Andi was pregnant, and with his children, and Toby had been struck anew with how beautiful she was, absolutely glowing, and the armor around his heart was rusting, the walls cracking. Although he barely admitted it to himself, he had fallen in love with Andrea all over again, and it burned away at his deepest insides.  
Andrea sighed, interrupting his thoughts. "I've already told you, they are our children, and I want you to be a part of their lives."  
_So that's it?_ a small, desperate voice deep in Toby's heart cried. _She wants me as a weekend dad, part-time help with the children, never home, just picking them up for occasional outings. Doesn't she realize it's more than that? Dammit, I'm the Director of Communications for the President of the United States, and I can't even tell the most beautiful woman in the world that I love her and want to be with her._  
"A part of their lives," he repeated, echoing her words. Taking a deep breath, and not even realizing he said it, he added, "What about your life?"  
_What was he doing? Why was he pursuing this?_ She had already refused his first proposal when they were at Camp David preparing for the debate during reelection. Her rejection had hurt more than he had realized or cared to admit.  
_What was he doing?_ Andrea wondered. Why did he keep trying to work his way back into her life? _Because you want him there,_ her heart said, _because you want him to be there for his children,_ reasoned her mind. No, she reminded herself, she was being foolish. Toby was just trying to protect her from the gossip, the slander, the lawsuit filed against her and that he had testified in. That was why he asked about her life.   
_It didn't work the first time,_ she thought, _but we didn't really give it a chance, did we?_ This was something of a startling realization.  
"My life?" Andi laughed softly. "Toby, you are a part of my life, and you always will be. We've shared so much..."  
This time Toby did not look up. His mind, usually so clear, was churning, and his heart was aching. Shared? Past tense. There was no hope; he was only inviting further pain. He rose. "Yes. Yes, we have. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go call Ginger and explain what's happened."  
"If she hasn't already seen you on the news. I bet it's on CNN. Or else CJ or someone would have called her."  
"Right." Toby murmured as he left. Andi remained seated on the couch with her feet tucked up beside her, where Toby had been seated. The cushions were still warm beneath her feet, and strangely, this made her feel somewhat sad. One of the babies kicked, and she put her hand on her stomach.  
"Shhh..." she murmured. "It's okay. It's okay."  


*****

After he left, Toby found his way back to his room and collapsed on the bed. Rubbing his face, he thought back over his conversation with Andi. His ex-wife, he reminded himself. _Ex_-wife.   
_Where had they gone wrong?_ he wondered. _Me. I went wrong._ He was the one who could not find the time for all the doctor's appointments, he who suggested setting a stop-date, he who left when it became clear that Andrea could no longer tolerate his presence. Now he wanted her back. Toby marveled at the irony of it all. She probably thought he only wanted to marry her to make the children legitimate, so everyone would get off her back. Well, of course he wanted that, but he wanted so much more. Andi's pregnancy only made him painfully aware of how much he missed her, missed having someone to talk to, someone to eat with, sleep with, live with, share with. Even when they had both been busy, they had always found an hour here, twenty minutes there, and they would grab a coffee or a bite to eat, and just talk--until the end, of course.  
She did not understand, and Toby did not know how to tell her that he loved her.  


*****

The next morning, Andrea arrived in the crowded breakfast salon just after the First Lady. Toby would have thought nothing of it, had her late entrance not caught Mrs. Bartlet's attention. She smiled broadly at the Congresswoman, exclaiming,  
"Andrea! What a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were still here. I thought you were returning with the President last night?"  
Standing near by, Toby overheard her comment. His jaw twitched, but he said nothing.  
"Well, ma'am, I was planning on it, but then we were dealing with a small disagreement here, so I decided to stay until the situation resolved itself." Andrea did not know how much the First Lady knew; probably everything, but she was not going to embarrass Toby in public if she could help it.  
"Ah, yes! Our gentlemen to the rescue. Tell me, Charlie, was Toby really mad?" Mrs. Bartlet had a wicked look in her eye. Charlie, who was just passing by, saw it, but also saw Toby glowering a few steps behind the First Lady.  
"Ma'am, as much as I like to be honest with you, you know I can't answer that." He smiled and ducked away before she tried any other tactics to get him in trouble with Toby.  
"Andi, may I talk to you for a moment?" Toby took advantage of Mrs. Bartlet's diverted attention to draw Andi aside.  
"Yeah, what's up, Toby?"  
"Why didn't you return last night with the President on Air Force One? It's much safer than a commercial jet."  
"I know, but I felt bad leaving you here without even waiting to say thank you and that I think what you did was really sweet."  
"Yeah, well, I still don't want you flying United or anything."  
"Ok, I won't--oh!"  
"What?" said Toby, immediately concerned.  
"Nothing, one of the babies just kicked, right--ooh!--here," Andrea responded, taking Toby's hand and placing it on her stomach. Toby closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could feel them, his children, moving beneath his hand. It was amazing, breathtaking, the most wonderful thing. Opening his eyes, he saw Andi looking at him, smiling. He smiled back, and it was an honest-to-goodness smile of happiness and love. His gaze was so intense it took Andrea's breath away. Blushing slightly, she removed her hand from Toby's and moved toward the door to the veranda.  
"I'm going to walk around for a few minutes. Make my excuses, ok?"  
"Yeah," Toby nodded his assent. His eyes followed her out the door until she disappeared from sight. The First Lady, being observant, noticed how Toby followed Andrea as she left the room, and resolved to have a word with him. She approached him, and commented, "It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it, Toby?"  
Toby refocused his gaze on the First Lady. "Yes, ma'am."  
"Toby," she started, sounding as if she had just had an idea. "Why don't you ask her to marry you?"  
He groaned inwardly. He did not want to be dealing with this right now, her questions and his emotions, the struggle to retain his self-control.  
"I already have, ma'am."  
"And?"  
"She said no."  
"Really." The First Lady sounded surprised and not a little amused.  
"I believe her exact words were, 'Under no circumstances,' but yes, she said no." Toby shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as he often did when discomfited.  
"I see..." Mrs. Bartlet replied thoughtfully. "Have you spoken to the President about this?"  
"Ma'am?"  
"Well, I don't know, he might be able to help. My husband is a very smart man."  
"With all due respect, Mrs. Bartlet, the President has already told to marry her. The problem doesn't lie in my lack of desire to marry her, but in her lack of desire to marry me."  
"Hmm... Thank you, Toby. I'll see you later."  
"Yes, ma'am."

*****

Andrea had some time for introspection while walking in the garden. Being a single, pregnant politician in Washington was harder than she had realized. Not that she cared; she wanted these children more than anything in the world. She might have to sacrifice her seat in the House, but she had almost two years before she had to deal with that possibility.   
The babies kicked again, and she rubbed the spot gently. Toby had been so gentle when she had placed his hand on her stomach, and he had seemed so happy. The look he gave her—that was more than just love for their children, but what was it? Toby was a consummate actor on the political stage, he knew how this pregnancy was "damaging" her reputation, had testified in the case against her, and was probably just thinking of her political career. His political-survival streak was resurfacing, Andi mused, and he wanted to help her stay in Congress. So he was trying to get her to remarry him.  
_It won't be enough, though, will it?_ Andi didn't want him to marry her just to save her political career, or her reputation, or because he wanted to be a part of their children's lives. She wanted him to want _her_, all of her, not just Andi-the-expectant-mother. She wanted him to love her.  
_What if he does love you?_ a very small voice in her head whispered. _What if he really does love you and it really is love burning in his eyes when he looks at you? You're pushing him away, you're hurting him._  
Reaching the end of the garden, Andrea turned and started back. She was surprised to see the First Lady, trailed as usual by a Secret Service agent, and obviously waiting for her. "Mrs. Bartlet," she smiled, forcing herself to collect her thoughts.  
"Andi, it's nice to see you. We didn't really get to talk in there with all the people."  
"No, we didn't."  
"How are you? Motherhood is wonderful, but pregnancy can be a real pain in the ass." She smiled conspiratorially at Andi.  
"Yes, ma'am, it can be. I'm doing well, though; the doctor said everything is normal."  
"That's terrific. Are your feet swollen?"  
Andrea laughed ruefully. "Horribly. I need to buy some new shoes when I get home."  
The First Lady nodded in agreement. "With Ellie, I took to wearing sneakers all the time, because nothing else would fit." Here she paused, trying to decide how to broach the subject of Andrea and Toby's relationship. She could not understand how two people who so obviously loved each other could be at such loggerheads with each other—although she and Jed were often the same way, so perhaps it was not such a stretch of the imagination  
"I think," she started, somewhat cautiously, "that despite his brevity, Toby will make a wonderful father."  
Andrea smiled. "Yes, I think he will. I'm so glad he wants to be involved in their lives. And, of course, I'm trying to include him in all the decisions—picking names and such."  
"Indeed," agreed the First Lady. _He wants to be involved with you, too, you know._ It was amazing how talented she was at cramming a whole sentence into the inflection on just one word.   
"Well, we'll have to see, won't we?" Andi said lightly, ignoring the implications of the comment. "I'm going to go back, if you'll excuse me, please, ma'am. I need to eat something before we leave."  
"Of course, Andi, go ahead," replied Mrs. Bartlet absently, following more slowly and thinking about the conversations she had had with Toby and Andi.  


*****

When Sam and Toby returned from the beach, Toby was very grumpy. Why did people like being outside so much? And why beaches? He would never get all the sand out of his shoes.  
"CHARLIE!" he thundered, storming into Sam's headquarters. Charlie stood up, looking resigned. When Toby bellowed in that tone, it was never a good sign.  
"Can I get you something, Toby?" he inquired in his usual mild manner.  
"Yeah. Get me CJ on the phone. I'm going to kick her ass!"  
Privately doubting anyone's ability to kick CJ's ass, Toby included, Charlie nonetheless prepared to place the call.  
"Where are you going to be?"  
"Right here. Call. Now."  
Charlie pulled out his cell phone and punched in CJ's number. "Hey, CJ, it's Charlie. I've got Toby here, he wants to—" "CJ? WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?" Toby grabbed the phone from Charlie. "SAM HAD THESE IDIOTS RUNNING HIS CAMPAIGN, HE HASN'T EVEN TAPPED THE LOCAL INTEREST GROUPS, AND I'V GOT SAND IN MY SHOES!"  
_Wow,_ thought Charlie. _Toby is pissed. You need to vent more, man, and relax a little!_  
CJ cut Toby off as she took him to task.  
"Toby, listen, I know the campaign isn't quite Bartlet for America, but really, you've got to do the best you can. And do us a favor, will you? Hire some speechwriters. You're gone, Sam's gone, and Will Bailey who started as a temp is doing miracles with the interns he has left. But eventually God is going to find something better to do and we're going to need real speechwriters. Even miracles don't last forever."  
Toby took a deep breath. "All right, I know. Look, we have six days until the election here, can Will manage until then? You can help him if he needs it."  
"Ok, but really, Toby, you need to hire people. I have enough on my hands as it is. I have to go; I've got a briefing in five."  
Toby, only slightly calmer, snapped the phone shut and threw it at Charlie. "Damn speechwriters," Charlie heard him mutter as he stomped out of the room.  


*****

"Toby?" Charlie called through the hotel room door. The young man vehemently hoped he was in a better mood than earlier that day. "Toby, the First Lady is staying one more night."  
"What?" Toby opened the door. "Why?"  
"There's a bunch of storms brewing in the Midwest, including one that is headed to DC. The pilot wants to wait until tomorrow."  
"Ok. What's Mrs. Bartlet doing while you wait?"  
"She's going to dinner with Amy," Charlie grinned, knowing Toby's opinion Amy. "If she has time tomorrow, she said she's going to visit a local hospital her friend works at. I think it has a big children's ward she wanted to see."  
"Thanks. Wait—what about the Congresswoman?"  
"She's waiting too—she said something about not flying United?"  
"Yeah." Toby remembered his previous comment to her. "Thanks, Charlie."  
"Goodnight, Toby."  
Closing the door, Toby thought for a minute. Sam was at a dinner, but Toby decided to stay in to strategize and plan the rest of the campaign. He hesitated only long enough for Charlie to have reached the elevator before heading towards Andi's suite. Tapping lightly at the door, he waited patiently. A few moments later, he heard footsteps, and the door swung open.  
"What?" Andrea snapped.  
"I just found out you're staying another night. I thought we could talk." Toby looked at her carefully. "What's wrong?"  
Andi only glared at him.  
"Look, can I come in?"  
"Suit yourself." She stalked away. Toby noticed how agitated and tired she looked, moving into the bedroom and sitting on the bed. _She's upset about something, too, and it's not just stress, _he thought. Without saying a word, he knelt down in front of her and pulled the leather pumps off her feet. She had such small feet, although he noticed that they were swollen from pregnancy. Next, he pulled the pillows together at the head of the bed, picked up Andi's feet, and swung them around so they were on the bed. Still not saying anything, he went into the living room to return a moment later with the ice bucket, a wet washcloth, and a bottle of mineral water.  
"Here," he said. "You don't want to get dehydrated."  
Gratefully, Andrea took a sip of water. "Boy, what I wouldn't give for a vodka and tonic right about now."  
"That's all?" Toby asked. "If I were in your shoes, I'd want a hell of a lot more than a single vodka and tonic."  
"Yeah, well…" Andi drifted off, leaning back against the pillows and closing her eyes. She started slightly when she felt Toby place the washcloth on her forehead, but did not open her eyes. She was so tired. _Why is Toby being so nice to me?_ she wondered crossly. Was he trying to ingratiate himself? It wasn't going to work. As hard as she tried, though, she could not quite be mad at him. She did not have the strength.  
Toby stood watching her carefully. She was very tense; he did not need their years of marriage to see that something, or several somethings, was really bothering her. Making a sudden decision, he sat down at her feet and placed them in his lap. Slowly massaging her feet, he kneaded the tension out of her arches with his thumbs. Looking up at Andi, Toby was surprised to see a tear trickling down her cheek. _She never cries, not unless something is very wrong._  
She just could not help it. Her day had been so horrible, and Toby was being so nice. It was just that her lawyer had called to tell her that she would have to appear in court for the lawsuit when she returned to Washington, her office had called to say that they couldn't get the support she needed for one of her bills and that it would probably never make it out of committee, oh, and by the way, there were people protesting outside her office in Maryland. Andi had been working all day, following the First Lady and Sam around various events as they shook hands and greeted people, and her feet were killing her…no, this definitely wasn't a good day.  
"Andrea," Toby's voice broke into her thoughts. She opened her eyes. "Andi, you don't have to do this alone."  
Andi shook her head. "It's not that. My marital status has no impact on my ability to be a good mother, and the fact that I will be a single mother has no impact on my ability to represent my constituents properly!" There was a slightly hysterical edge to her voice.  
"I know. But not everyone sees it like that. You're going to have to deal with them."  
"I am dealing with them!" Andi almost shouted at him.  
"I'm not saying you aren't."  
"You implied it."  
"Andrea, I did no such thing. I know that you are perfectly capable of being a single mother and politician. However, that doesn't mean you _have_ to, just to prove that you can." She glared at him. He did have a point, no matter how much she did not want to admit it. _Dammit, I hate it when he's right._  
"Andi, I'd like you to reconsider me. Please?" Toby was speaking very quietly.   
"You're selfish, Toby, you know that?"  
"I know. And you're stubborn."  
"Yes, yes I am."  
There was an awkward pause. Strangely, they felt closer than they had in a long time, even since Andi's pregnancy, and it was discomfiting.  
"What happened, Andi?" Toby's voice by this point was so soft that she could barely hear him. He would not look at her. Andrea sighed before answering.  
"Toby, there were a lot of things that happened. You had your campaign, I had my campaign, you were away a lot…"  
"It was my fault, wasn't it?"  
"No, Toby, it wasn't. Well, yes, in a way. But I didn't try to stop you."  
"I'm sorry I didn't have time for you." Toby sounded apologetic, which did not happen very often, especially in the political world.  
"Me, too. And yet somehow I don't think it was right for us to start a family then." Andrea looked away, not sure why she made this confession.  
"But it is now?"  
"Yes. I think it is." Toby nodded in agreement. Changing the topic, Andi asked him, "Why are you being so nice to me? Most men would have given up by now."  
Still massaging her feet, Toby responded softly, "You said it yourself, Andi. I'm selfish." He took a deep breath. "I want you back. You're—" he took another breath. "You're everything to me."  
Their eyes locked, and Andrea was surprised once more at the intensity of his gaze, the passion in his eyes. _Maybe he means it,_ she wondered. _He certainly hasn't looked at me like that since—well, since we first started dating. But no, of course not. He's just trying to protect my reputation. I won't let him hurt me again._ She looked away, hardening her resolve.  
As for Toby, he merely sat at Andi's feet, heart pounding. Armor? Melted. Walls? Breached. Toby had not felt this vulnerable since he was about six, and had hardly thought himself capable of such deep emotions.  
Seeing no sign of a response from Andi, he slowly lowered his gaze. Andrea's feet were still in his lap, caressed tenderly by his hands. He carefully put her feet back on the bed and stood.  
"Yeah, well, I'll be going." He felt as though there was a huge chasm in his chest, sucking away at his insides. Why had he spoken? Toby knew she was not going to marry him, she had said it a dozen times if she had said it once. He left quietly, went back to his room, and started drinking his way through the mini bar. 

*****

WASHINGTON, D.C.; TOBY'S FIRST DAY BACK AT THE WHITE HOUSE.  
Toby stared at his computer screen, trying to think. Most of the past two and a half weeks were a blur, but certain events stood out clearly. Too clearly, he thought somewhat bitterly. Sam's overwhelming defeat and stoic acceptance. Toby had done as he had promised, and stood with Sam through all the "rock-throwing," as they had dubbed it. Sam had weathered it well, but had decided not to return to Washington. It was not a case of injured pride; rather, Sam had decided to stay local and prepare for the Senate race in two years. He needed to remain visible among his potential constituents, Sam had declared, so it was better not to return to the White House. Washington was too far away.  
Another thing that stood out too clearly was Andrea's second rejection. The sinking feeling in his chest returned. He felt like a little kid who had just found out Christmas had been cancelled. Toby had not seen Andrea since his return three days ago, nor did he particularly want to. He hardly slept, even when he wanted to: definitely not a good sign.  
Trying to clear his mind, Toby worked his way through the mound of papers that had accumulated on his desk in his absence. Grabbing a handful, he moved to the filing cabinet, grumbling about Ginger's inability to complete simple tasks like filing.  
There was a knock at the door.  
"What?" he growled, not turning around. It was probably Ginger. He heard footsteps, and then felt a hand on his arm. He inhaled, recognizing a familiar scent. Toby turned around, and his heart flip-flopped in his chest. It was Andrea.  
Andi did not say a word. She just put her arm around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. It was like a first kiss; it was perfect.  
"Hi," she finally said, breaking away.  
"Hi," Toby replied wonderingly. Andi smiled at him. "You asked me to reconsider."  
"Yeah."  
"Well, I did."  
"And?"  
"Yes. I do want to marry you."  
Toby blinked, but that was all. Andrea was a little surprised—she was familiar with his unique way of emoting, but still, a little enthusiasm would have been nice. She jumped at his next words.  
"GINGER!" Toby shouted, never taking his eyes off Andi.  
"Yes?" Ginger stuck her head in the door. She looked wary.  
"Ginger," Toby began, "Call Charlie for me, will ya? I need to speak to the President."  
"Ok," Ginger left. What was going on? Something was different…She called Charlie and then returned to Toby's office.  
"Toby? He'll see you in ten."  
"Thanks."  
As she went back to her cubicle, Ginger realized what was different. Toby looked happy. He was smiling—grinning, even, if such a thing were possible. _Wait till I tell Margaret,_ she thought. She'll never believe me.  
Back in his office, Toby clasped Andrea's fingers in his.  
"Andi? Are you sure?"  
She smiled complacently. "Since when have I not been able to make up my mind?"  
Toby snorted, and she grinned back at him.  
"Yes, Toby, I'm sure."  
And, hands linked, they walked through the never-ending hallways to the Oval Office to share their happy news with President Bartlet.  
  
FIN 


End file.
